


Lost Her Mind

by TheAzureFox



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Brainwashing, F/M, Gen, Hypnotism, Manipulation, Mental Abuse, Paranoia, Spectre has the ability to hypnotize people, Stalking, and Aoi wins in episode 34, canon divergence but also slight AU, not meant to be a romanticization, physical assault, taking memories without consent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-03-15 07:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13608300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAzureFox/pseuds/TheAzureFox
Summary: Goaded on by a phantom, Aoi Zaizen searches for the meaning of Blue Angel's tears.(Canon Divergence AU)





	1. Angel and Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of a divergence point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone else in the fanfiction community right now: Let's write about Spectre/Revolver!
> 
> Me, crying into the abyss ever since episode 33: ...Spectre & Aoi?
> 
> But no seriously it seems Spectre/Revolver caught on quickly and oh wow I'm so happy to read fanfics on Spectre (and yes I gotta review them but I...gotta review a lot of fanfics, tbh)
> 
> That aside, the whole idea for this fanfic ironically started with episode 32. I had hopes at that point that Aoi would actually win in a way that would keep her alive but still make Spectre look like a reputable villain (or, at the very least, a reoccurring, threatening one). This whole idea was crafted from a hypothesis made on Spectre's episode 32 dialogue and actions as well as my hopes that he would remain strictly relevant to Aoi's/Blue Angel's life and to no one else's.
> 
> Also, it's best to say this now since I'm largely aware this might be a possible issue but I am in NO way trying to romanticize Spectre's actions in the anime or in this fanfiction here. As a character, I adore his complexity and empathize with his plight of loneliness, but I am under no disillusion that he is indeed a toxic and abusive person. His creepy, stalkerish, and clearly obsessive "fan" behavior towards Blue Angel (as well as his seeming habit of traumatizing her) are not things to be taken lightly. And, while I am doing my best to make this very, very evident, I feel like I should note this as a warning just in case I have ended up romanticizing his terrifying behavior.
> 
> As a tertiary note: much of this fanfic hinges on episode 32 and episode 33. And, while it's not required to rewatch the episodes if you've already seen them, it'll give more insight into my thoughts for the near-entirety of this fic :D And, that being said, while the first chapter may initially seem like a rehash of those episodes, this is also the set-up for the rest of the fic so it's not completely repetitive because it's also the start of the divergence point

There are a lot of things Aoi Zaizen doesn’t understand about her life. She doesn’t understand why her parents left her, why she can’t see them anymore. She doesn’t understand why they’re not allowed in their home anymore, why her brother looks like he’s close to crying or why they walk away like there is no home to return to.

She doesn’t know much, but there are a few certain facts in her life:

One, that she loved her big brother with all her heart and soul.

Two, that she was a duelist by nature, a warrior of the card game battlefield and a ferocious fighter in her own right.

And, three, that she wanted to be like Blue Angel _._

For as long as she can remember, she’s cherished the moments where her brother read her her favorite tale. Back before SOL stole him away, back before her brother turned his warm gaze away from her, he was someone she loved with all her heart. He always knew when she was suffering, always knew what to do when she cried and how to soothe away her worries.

He read her a storybook.

“ _Long, long ago_ ,” her brother would start as she nestled onto his lap, “ _there lived an angel with hair as blue as the ocean and wings as white as the clouds._ ”

Aoi, blinking with tears in her eyes, would nestle closer to him, sniffling but attentive. “ _Was she beautiful?_ ” Aoi would ask without fail, hands held contemplatively up to wipe her face.

Her brother would smile, his gaze soft as he replied with: “ _Of course_.” His calming words soothed away her sadness, the confidence in such a sentence making Aoi giggle. “ _But, even with her beauty, she was alone._ ”

“ _Why was that?”_ She asks.

“ _Well, this angel had a heart of ice. She claimed to be tough and fought only for herself. She was strong and independent, a self-taught expert who depended on only herself to survive. Any angels who dared to befriend her found themselves at an arm’s length, for she claimed she could not make friends because she loved her loneliness._

 _“Still, as much as she pushed others away, she couldn’t help but keep her tears inside. She loathed her solitude, loathed the emptiness inside of her. Alone, she cried, her unseen tears like the color of a dark blue sea._ ”

Aoi bites at her nails, eyes widening at such a statement. In many ways, she empathizes with this angel, this figure. She herself suffered from loneliness, from the distance of her peers and the grievance of parents long since lost. She knows what it was like to be alone.  _But,_ she thinks, looking up at the boy who looks back with eyes full of kindness,  _not completely._

Her brother’s voice continues on. “ _One day, however, this angel was ambushed by evil monsters. She did not expect them and fell prey to their cruel tactics, trapped and cornered without a second thought._ ”

A soft gasp and Aoi’s hands dug into her brother’s shirt. “ _But she’s okay, right?_ ” She asks, even though she knows the answer. “ _Brother_ ,  _she’s alright, isn’t she?”_

His hand falls atop her head. “ _Well, when the blue angel found herself unable to escape, a miracle occurred. The angel companions she had spurned came to her rescue, arriving by her side to fight off the evil monsters! The angel was so moved by their help that she couldn’t help but reciprocate their kindness._

_“Alongside her new friends, she kept defeating evil monsters and she kept gaining angel companions in the meantime. With each encounter, the angel realized she wasn’t as lonely as she had believed and, in time, opened her heart to the world.”_

“ _But…_ ” Aoi’s voice trails off.

An eyebrow raises. “ _Yes?_ ”

“ _That’s not the end though…is it…?_ ”

“ _And you’d be right_ ,” her brother chuckles, flipping to the last page of the storybook, “ _for, while this angel grew kinder, her companions began to notice something rather peculiar about her. Whenever she defeated the evil monsters, she cried tears as dark blue as the sea. Before long, her fellow angels began to call her_ Blue Angel _, nicknaming her after the tears that ran without reason down her cheeks. Still, even as Blue Angel cried, she and all the other angels lived on to protect the world from the evil monsters, saving everyone from catastrophe because of her noble actions. The end._ ”

He closes the storybook and Aoi looks over it with disbelief, checking the last pages again and again as her eyebrows furrow at the words she cannot read. “ _That can’t be right_ ,” she says, “ _that_ can’t  _be the end_.”

The boy beside her picks her up and hugs her close. “ _And what makes you say that, Aoi?_ ”

“ _You never explained why Blue Angel was crying._ ” She peers up at him, her arms drooping over his around her waist as she closes the storybook shut and holds it to her chest. “ _She shouldn’t be crying. She has friends now and she’s kinder, why is she crying?_ ”

Her brother’s eyes widen and he chuckles at her confused expression. “ _I don’t know, Aoi_.  _Although, if I had to bet, perhaps that storybook is unfinished_.”

“ _Un…finished?_ ”

“ _That’s right. Perhaps the author wanted it to leave the reason for Blue Angel’s tears unsaid and up to interpretation._ ”

“ _But that’s so stupid,_ ” she says. “ _Why can’t the author just tell us?”_

He shakes his head. “ _Some things are perhaps better left unsaid_ ,” he says before his gaze drifts away. “ _Regardless, it’s time for dinner. Let’s leave that topic aside and eat something now. You’ve got a big day in front of you – your first day of middle school, isn’t that great?”_

Aoi nods, scurrying out of his lap. Akira stands and follows after her, a smile on his face as he leads her into the kitchen to discuss meal plans.

All the while, Aoi wonders. Just as she doesn’t understand her parents or why her brother looks so sad, she also doesn’t understand why Blue Angel cried. Such tears were unwarranted because Blue Angel had friends now, what was there to be sad about? If Aoi had friends (not she  _didn’t_ , she’d tell herself with a face full of denial) she certainly wouldn’t cry anymore because then she wouldn’t be lonely anymore.

( _Still_ , she thinks, growing and maturing and reflecting on the fairy tale of her childhood every day of her life,  _there must be something more to it._ )

~~~

A tree, grand and looming. A man cloaked in white, his clothing like the mockery of a priest. He stands tall and erect, a menacing smile beckoning her frustration. In his hands, a storybook. On his lips, words of knowing that make Aoi Zaizen frown.

“You are Blue Angel,” he says, calm as a rattlesnake, “the heroine of this storybook.”

He lays out the foundation for his beliefs, citing knowledge that can only be obtained from that of a freakish stalker. Light blue eyes sweep over her with fascinated intrigue, his face portraying the interest of a man feverishly studying her every move.

“Yeah?” Aoi lifts her chin up and tries not to show the disgust she feels at someone crawling underneath her skin. “What about it?”

The phantom grins, his pale face shaded by the shadows of his guardian tree. “Perhaps, then, would that make me the evil monsters of your story? Am I the wretched creature that haunts your waking dreams, Blue Angel?”

“You’re creepy,” she replies with puzzlement at the wording, “but I don’t think you’re a monster.”

Beside her, angels of bright colors hover, their presence familiar and warming against the icy chill of the man before her. Something about the way she phrases her sentence seems to send their wings fluttering, the inanimate creatures becoming lively at such a statement.

Spectre, her opponent, scoffs at the confidence on her face. He watches her with an exasperated shake of his head, arms held up in a gesture that vaguely suggests: “what am I to do with you?”

“My,” the man in white says, “such generous words from my fair lady.  _Ahh_ , how enlightening it is to hear you suggest that I am too  _pure_ for such a notion. But,” the storybook in his hands begins to burn, white pages charring into black, “this monster cannot be stopped, little angel. I will sooner tear those wings from your back than to hear you assume I’m not a monster.”

The tree that guards the man is moved by such words, branches quivering with maniacal delight as vines wrap around his person. A golden glow overtakes him before Spectre points to an angel on Blue Angel’s side of the field.

_Trickstar Holly Angel._

“I’ll be taking her as my servant,” he says with firm confidence.

Blue Angel watches as the roots of the tree emerge from the ground to capture Holly Angel, wrapping around her wrists and pinning her to the ground. The woman screams, fighting against the grip of the giant tree that stands before her. However, all the woman’s efforts are for naught and the Trickstar woman collapses. She is dragged over to Spectre’s side of the field without hesitation, her cries silenced as thorns stab into her skin.

“Holly Angel!” Blue Angel cries to her ace monster, gaze tossed to her opponent in disbelief.

Spectre snaps his fingers, smiling at the girl all the while. His gaze never leaves hers as Holly Angel, like a puppet, arises from the ground, wings beating in a slow and eerie motion. She is much like a marionette, invisible strings tugging her upwards, back facing Blue Angel, until she slowly spins around to take a bow in front of her former master.

When Holly Angel arises, her eyes are the color of foxglove flowers.

“What’d you do to her?” Blue Angel takes a step back, watching as the monster before her gives her a sickening grin. “ _What did you do to her?_ ”

The phantom giggles. “My, you  _did_ read the storybook, didn’t you?” Pages set ablaze fall in little scraps to the ground. “Shouldn’t you already know the answer, my sweet angel?”

She curls her lip in disgust at the pet name. “No. I don’t.”

His eyes widen for a fraction of a second. “Oh my, oh my, what’s this? Do you not know the true meaning of the book? What the evil monster of yours represents?”

“You’re messing with me.”

He shrugs, ashes falling from his hands. “Perhaps I was wrong,” he says. “And here I hoped for salvation at the hands of someone I so adored. But, I guess a fan must always ensure his idol is at her best.”

“ _Riddles_ ,” she spits. “All you ever speak in are  _riddles_.”

“Not so,” Spectre bows before her. “Holly Angel, if you please.”

The Trickstar glides forward, her face a mask of insanity as she cackles. Her whip slices through the air, striking Aoi hard enough to send her flying back. Blue Angel muffles a scream, wincing as the shock of the impact has her knees crumbling before her.

“What’s wrong, my wonderful angel? Scared so soon?”

She stands back up onto her feet, cards already in her hand. “ _Never._ ”

An eyebrow raises.

“Come at me then.”

She takes a deep breath, calms herself down, and then…

~~~

Aoi Zaizen wins the battle, but at a price.

Spectre goes down, but it is not she who was the last word. All her pleas to him are useless. He will not listen, does not  _care_ to listen. He is a pillar of cruelty, a caricature of utter chaos as he mocks her with a final bow.

“You let me win.” She says, angry. “You threw the match.”

His smile taunts her. “Indeed I did.”

“Why?”

“I can tell you this much: it was not out of the pity of my heart that I spared you.”

“Explain!” Blue Angel demands, eyes narrowed.

“I’m afraid I’m out of time, my sweet angel.”

And, indeed, the time he has borrowed for himself has wasted itself away. His body disintegrates into dark magenta particles that ascend into the sky. Before he disappears completely, however, he manages a nauseating grin at her and says:

“Angel of tears, if we next meet, let’s see if you can truly open the door to my heart.”

Blue Angel stares at him like he’s crazy (he is) but fails to understand as Spectre raises up a hand.

The man snaps his fingers.

Suddenly, all Blue Angel can see is the giant tower that looms over her and the impending sense of doom as the virtual world crashes down around her.

She must meet with Playmaker.

~~~

The VRAINS is saved, but Aoi Zaizen can’t help the feeling that her quarrel with Hanoi isn’t quite finished. All the people whose souls were stolen by the Tower of Hanoi had been restored and, as a result, Blue Angel had come to rest upon her mantle. The news media proclaimed of her persona’s heroics, praising SOL’s poster child for her saving of the lives of many. Her brother had chased after Ghost Girl (for reasons Aoi herself could not fathom), eager to thank his sister as he’d rushed off to the lair of a woman Aoi knew so little of. Playmaker and Go, much like herself, had retired from the public’s eye, no doubt treating themselves for saving the apocalypse.

Still, even though she was happy to Link VRAINS maintained and safe from the evil-doers who threatened its livelihood, Aoi could not shake off the nagging feeling that she was missing something. To her, it felt as if she still had unfinished business to attend to. And, while she didn’t know  _what_ distressed her mind, the mere knowing of  _knowing_ left Aoi a stranger in her own skin.

For one, at night, she could sense eyes in the walls, poking and prodding her as she shifted underneath the blankets of her bed. In the day, she felt something akin to being haunted, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up as the breath of something otherworldly brushed her skin.

 _A ghost_ , her brain says, a faint suggestion that takes hold in the consciousness of her mind,  _a malevolent spirit_.

Watching the news - a task she had once thought mundane - made her bite at her nails. Something about the way the news cameras roll and the way a frog and pigeon make mundane reports put her at unease. She kept watching because she felt it was important, she kept watching because she felt like, maybe, it had the clues to the phantom that haunted her. However, no matter how much she paid attention, she never found the answers she sought.

Days and weeks pass. As a hero of the VRAINS, she can’t afford to lose focus. The people she’s dedicated her life to need her. Playmaker and Go Onizuka need her. She’s needed by everyone, needed by those who are weak and those who are strong and all those in-between.

And, so long as she’s needed, Blue Angel will never stop fighting.

(In the back of her mind, however, there is a voice that plays like a record inside her mind. It is a voice oozing with such malice that she feels like gagging, wanting to make it stop in whatever way she can.

“ _Blue angel with tears so dark, can’t you see? Are you so blinded by your own fears and sorrow that you cannot look at me? If you feel so needed by your angels, why do you leave me so behind?”_

She turns her head to meet the voice but, in this pitch black realm, all she sees is the darkness of her aching consciousness consuming her whole.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This...is the shortest chapter of all 7 sections which is quite fitting since it's the set-up to the later chapters. I don't have a schedule set for this but I have all parts done except for the final chapter which is nearly finished. Be prepared for a very interesting ride from here on out because oh boy is this a long ride...
> 
> :'D


	2. You Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue Angel meets trouble. 
> 
> Or, perhaps, trouble seeks _her_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (now belated) Valentine's Day! I wanted to write something shippy for Akira/Ema but, alas, due to college wanting to spite me I haven't been able to succeed in that plan. Maybe this weekend I can make up for it? But the only hireshipping fics I have are a 20+ page unfinished story and a short unfinished nsfw story that came to me on a whim (and which I absolutely _swear_ is not pwp ;;;)...maybe I'll try a new idea or something...hmm....
> 
> This chapter features an "OC" but...they're more like a McGuffin than an OC? Honestly, I just need a placeholder character for the shenanigans of the plot so any character not from canon is nothing really to fret over. Just know they're there for plot purposes and that they exist only because there's so much I can do with VRAINS's current cast before running out of plot things to talk about...

The next time Aoi Zaizen meets  _him_  is in the underbelly of the VRAINS, a shady underground market that slithers with treasure hunters, dealers and assassins that eye her with temptation. Alongside her is Playmaker ( _Yusaku Fujiki_ ), Go Onizuka, Ghost Girl ( _Ema Bessho_ ) and Akira Zaizen who all take in the grotesque sights before them without blinking an eye.

“Remember,” Ghost Girl says, waving to a variety of strangers that pass them by, “our mission is to find Serenity. She’s a famous name around these parts so I wouldn’t be surprised if _s_ _omeone_  here has info on her.”

Playmaker eyes her with the mild concern the rest of them feel. “You seem to be pretty at home here.”

“But of course!” The woman chimes, clapping her hands together. “This is where I grew up. These streets are my  _territory_ , everyone knows my name and I know theirs!”

“And…yet you brought us along anyways,” the boy gives a sideways glance to a woman who blows kisses at him and shuffles closer to Go, visibly stiffening. “Why are we needed, again?”

“Five ears are better than one, don’t you know?” Ghost Girl herds them into the center of a plaza, eyes sparkling as she looks amongst all of them. “Now, as it’s a bad, bad idea for any one of you to be left alone, I want to separate us into two groups. Normally, I’d use the buddy system but, as there are five of us, it’s best we go into one group of three and one group of two. Makes it harder for any of you to get robbed or kidnapped, quite honestly.”

The boy frowns at her, eyes narrowing. “And what do you presume we do?”

One of Ghost Girl’s hands intertwines with Akira: the other, with Aoi. The girl slides her gaze to the woman but it is not reciprocated. Instead, Ghost Girl hums, her attention captivated on Playmaker.

“I’m taking these two,” she says, holding up their hands. “You can take Go.”

“We don’t get a choice?” Akira protests, gaining an approving nod from Go.

“Would you like to change arrangements then?” Silver eyes sweep between them. “If so, speak up now or forever hold your peace.”

Playmaker rolls his eyes and so does Aoi but Akira and Go hastily shake their heads, unable to fish up a protest. Nodding in satisfaction, Ghost Girl drops the hands of Aoi and Akira and looks at Playmaker, pointing in the direction of an alleyway that leads into darkness. “You guys should take that route. It looks super shady but, believe me, it leads to a safer place than the rest of this lot. As you don’t have my expertise, it’s best you go off there.”

“And you?” The boy asks, not at all impressed.

She glances at the blue-haired man beside her. “Well, me and Akira are used to this kind of stuff. Blue Angel, on the other hand, needs some guides her lest a stranger whisk her away from us.”

“I can take care of myself,” the girl points out, huffing.

“Against other duelists and terrorists, maybe. But, down here, it’s a whole new ballgame. There are people who are more than willing to steal away your pretty little body for their own unsavory purposes.” Ghost Girl waves a hand without a care in the world and Blue Angel shudders at the implications left unsaid. “Regardless, that’s what me and your brother are here for. We’re experienced in this kind of crap. You shouldn’t have to worry about anything while we’re here.”

Blue Angel nods, skeptical but trusting in the way her brother looks at Ghost Girl like he has no doubts in his mind about her intentions. A few more words are said and, bidding good luck from one group to another, they part ways to venture the underground world.

The girl follows Ghost Girl and Akira with caution, tucked between the two of them as they progress. As promised, the two handle all the exchanges, each of them tugging her along as they talk with the various shady folk that linger in the streets of Link VRAINS. Each discussion follows a simple pattern: an eye for an eye. What little information her brother and Ghost Girl gain comes with a price tag of equal value. Blue Angel is almost amazed at how skilled they both are and is almost envious of their abilities to extract out intelligence like it’s nobody’s business. She’d suspected Ghost Girl of being capable of such a thing – she was a shady treasure hunter, after all – but from her own _brother?_ She apparently hadn’t realized the full extent of his prowess nor his ability to match Ghost Girl’s capabilities as if they were his own.

Regardless, they move on with little progress. Each informant has so little to say about their target and even less on her whereabouts that their path forward has begun to look bleak. They trudge on, going from person to person until they are stuck wandering in hopes of someone new. All the while, however, Blue Angel begins to feel something weird creep upon her. She can’t explain the feeling as anything other than déjà vu, a sense of repetition feeding into her as the eyes of the walls open and land upon her.

Footsteps.

Blue Angel pauses. Ghost Girl and Akira don’t notice, too wrapped up in their own discussion to notice her suddenly lingering behind.

“Hey. You.”

She nearly jumps five feet into the air, spinning around on her heels to watch as a young boy greets her. His boyish face lights up in a cunning smile awfully reminiscent of a Cheshire Cat.

“Who are you?” the girl snaps, narrowing her eyes.

The stranger steps forward, rubbing a chin. “You’re looking for Serenity, aren’t you?” He takes her hand and she yanks away.

“So what?” She snaps, lips curling. “What’s it to you?”

He straightens. “I may know someone who can help you.”

Blue Angel shakes her head, risking a glance behind her. To her horror, seven people appear from the shadows to crowd in behind her, their faces stoic but menacing. She looks back to the boy and snarls, summoning her whip to defend herself.

“Let me go.” She says. “Or I’ll scream.”

“Like that would do you any good. No one here can hear you except for us. Your friends have already become distracted by some of my own. If you want them unharmed, I’d suggest you comply.”

She narrows her eyes. “You’re lying to me.”

“Oh, no, I assure you,” the boy shakes his hands, “I’m not.”

A finger snap.

The people who’ve gathered around her flinch. In front of her, the masses part to reveal the presence of a man cloaked in white and in a vague resemblance to a priest. He comes to a stop in front of her, bowing low with a mocking smirk on his face.

“Who are you?” She asks, curling her lips at the strange familiarity that he addresses her with.

“My, my, my angel, have you forgotten me already?” He rubs his forehead in exasperation. “Why, but of course you have! How foolish of me!”

She tilts her head, puzzled but unwilling to let her confusion take the best of her. Without alerting those around her, she searches for escape routes, her gaze trained on the man as she does so. As if sensing her intentions, the ring of people around her tighten, eyes glaring with the intention of ruining her the moment she steps out of line.

The man watches her, smiling all the while. “Here,” he says, eyes shining in cold-hearted delight, “let me open the door to your heart, Blue Angel.”

He snaps his finger again and suddenly her body slips from her control. Her heart pounds in her chest, a sharp pang piercing her mind. All at once, her memories come flooding back, splashing against the sides of her head until she stands on two feet to glare at the man before her.

“ _Spectre_ ,” she snarls.

The man claps in approval. “Ah, to hear you say my name is  _truly_  a blessing, my blue angel.”

“Cut the act, what do you want?”

“Oh? Straight to the punch already?” Spectre sighs and waves off his men. He beckons her forward. “I want to talk.”

She remains firm. “I’m not coming with you.”

“Oh? But your brother…you know what happens to people who are trapped in the VRAINS right? Ghost Girl was one of them and she can become an Another again if you so wish. I’ll cage them both inside if you don’t follow me.”

“How low of you,” she spits. “You’re pitiful.”

“Remember, my darling angel that I am not pitiful but evil. Now, come, I have little patience for wasted time.” He eyes her stiffened posture and sighs. “Really now? Would you risk your own life for your brother’s? I thought you were less selfish than this, my dear.”

The sea of goons part as he makes a path to depart down the alleyway. Blue Angel glances behind her, glaring at the scum who block her path before following after Spectre, her hands clenched into fists.  _As soon as I get a chance,_ she promises herself,  _I’m going to escape_.

Spectre, as if sensing her intentions, looks behind him. He raises an eyebrow, gives a mocking sigh and then gestures her onwards.

Against her will, she follows.

~~~

Aoi Zaizen arrives at a brick building lit by golden lanterns and tries not to wrinkle her nose at the sight of it. It is an ancient building or, at least, wears the facade of one. Bricks weathered by wind and rain form the walls, glass windows barred by silver rails providing nothing past a view of faded crimson curtains. Moss crawls across the surface, festering in the cracks that run abundant on faded beige walls.

“Well,” Spectre says, opening a door that creaks as if it has not been used in years, “come on in.”

Blue Angel steps past him and into a room burdened with dust and cobwebs. It is a barren place, one that echoes of a time long abandoned by fate, and the girl can’t help but get a sense of sad loneliness as she takes a seat in a chair made of rusted metal.

“Now, let it be known I have a heart and soul,” Spectre says, taking a seat across from her with one leg over the other and his hands atop his knee. “I am not here to harm you.”

“I happen to think otherwise.”

“You shouldn’t. I gave you your memories back. Can’t you at least remember the  _kindness_  I showed you?”

“You lost the duel to me on purpose. That’s not kindness, that’s blatant disrespect for your opponent.”

He shrugs, not at all perturbed by her proclamation. “Yes, but you got to live, right?”

“What do you want?”

He straightens, nodding in approval. “An eye for an eye.”

“Are you operating like every other dealer in this forsaken area?”

“Yes, I am. You want to know about Serenity. Naturally, I can help you with that if you so wish. _But_ , in exchange, you must promise me you’ll owe me a favor in return.”

She talks before he can say another word. “No deal.”

Spectre almost seems to pout. “Why not?”

“You know why. I can’t trust you.”

“Just because I  _threatened_ you doesn’t mean I’m  _not_  trustworthy.”

“You stalked me, used personal information against me, you’ve disrespected me and you’ve clearly stated your intentions to harm. Not to mention, but you’ve stolen my memories twice now – something that clearly belongs to  _me_.”

“I do so all in good faith, my blue-”

“ _Stop_ calling me  _that_.”

He tilts his head into the picture of innocence. “What, blue angel?”

“No. I am not  _your_ Blue Angel. I am my  _own person_ , Spectre, and you  _cannot_ treat me like a toy from the storybook.”

He sneers but does not argue against her. Instead, he leans closer. “Back to the point, Blue Angel,” she narrows her eyes, expecting him to mock her further but finds surprise when he continues on without more belittling, “I will give you the information you seek at the price of you allowing me a duel at my leisure.”

“Sounds like a deal too good to be true.”

“Perhaps,” he shrugs, “but, honestly, I’m the best option you have. There’s a reason why no one else you’ve met knows about Serenity’s location, you know.”

He snaps a finger and she frowns. “You stole their memories?”

“After extracting out information on Serenity, yes. Don’t worry, they’re all unharmed.”

“But that’s not right!” She snaps and his eyes widen a fraction. “You can’t just take someone else’s memories as you deem fit! It isn’t right!”

What little surprise he shows quickly turns into amusement. “Blue Angel, don’t you remember? I’m the evil monster here, it is only within my right that I do as I please. Now, moving on, you need to know Serenity’s whereabouts in order for you to progress your quest. I have that information and am willing to share it with you. All I need to hear is your word that you’ll accept a duel no matter the situation. Is that fair?”

“You’re going to steal my memory from me, aren’t you?” She accuses. “You’ll do as you say but you won’t do it without first robbing me blind.”

“A cunning thought but, alas, that is not what I plan to do. I  _will_  wipe your memories of me but I will  _not_  erase the information you seek from your mind. It would not amuse me to rob you of that, especially when it is so much more fun to see the results of my work without you remembering  _why_.”

She eyes him. “How can I ensure you’ll keep your word?”

He intertwines his hands into a single fist and summons a piece of paper. “A binding contract. If either one of us fails to keep our words, there will be repercussions to face. I’m willing to oblige to whatever you want me to do if I fail to follow through. All I ask is that you do the same.”

“I can’t do this.”

“But you  _need_  to find Serenity and I’m your  _only_ lead. You refuse and your friends won’t be able to do a thing against SOL. Not to mention but, the longer you wait, the longer your  _brother_  and his so-called  _friend_ will get worried about you.”

“I almost think you care,” the girl replies dryly.

He looks over his nails. “I don’t. But, that’s neither here nor there.” Spectre extends out the contract before her. “Come on, Blue Angel, make a choice. My information for one measly duel or your eternal contemplation and a brother sick over your disappearance.”

Against her better judgment, she holds out a hand looking over the document as she waits. Spectre nods in approval, handing her a feathered pen. She signs her name and, underneath, her condition:

_If Spectre fails to comply with the above agreements, he is unable to wipe my memory clean or interfere with my life ever again._

She hands the contract back and Spectre looks over it with a delightful grin, ignoring the way Blue Angel swipes his pen across the palm of her hand before she hands the item to him. He writes his own name (in fancy cursive, no less) and writes his condition. Blue Angel looks over the contract, frowning as she reads his terms.

_If Blue Angel fails to comply with the above agreements, she will allow me the honor of a duel whenever I please._

“Such a strange requirement for a broken contract,” she says. “Do you really want to duel me that much?”

His light blue eyes scan over her, the contract furling into his hands. “Maybe? I must admit, I wasn’t fond of our last match. You can call me insane but I can’t help but want to repeat our encounters.”

The girl raises an eyebrow, not at all amused by his riddles. Spectre, however, does not waste time. He relates to her all the information he knows. She listens, nodding along as the man before her talks. Like he had claimed, he knew a lot about their target, listing Serenity’s locations and her activities as if he himself was intimate enough to know about the woman they hunted. Still, while she listened, Blue Angel kept a mental note of all the doors and entrances, her gaze kept on Spectre but her vision attached to the world around her.

Finally, their talk comes to an end. Blue Angel excuses herself, leaving the seat to reach for the door with her back turned to him.

“Before you leave,” there is almost a smile in Spectre’s voice, “one last thing.”

She stiffens, purple gaze looking back at him. “Yes?”

“Let me just say this. The door to my heart? It’s still not opening. Keep up the good work though, Blue Angel.”

He snaps a finger.

And, despite fighting against it, her vision goes black.

~~~

Aoi Zaizen blinks and suddenly she’s standing in an alleyway in Link VRAINS, confusion riddling her as she glances to and fro. She’s alone but she remembers enough to recollect the fact that her brother and the others are walking through the streets without her by their side.

“What…was I doing?” the girl asks, the wings on her persona’s back hovering up and down.

She holds up her hands, looks at the back of them, and then scrunches her eyebrows together in an attempt to maintain her sanity. The noises of the virtual world creep around her and she encloses her arms around herself, watching as the eyes of strangers prod into her. Uncomfortable, she departs from the alleyway to search for that of her companions.

“Brother,” she whispers to herself, “where did you go?”

As if answering her prayers, she hears footsteps pound on cobbled streets and a cry of “Aoi!” shattering through the noise in the streets. Such a familiar voice washes away all of the girl’s worries and she steps out into the street to see Akira and Ghost Girl calling her name.

“Brother!” She shouts.

The man turns to her, relief flooding into his eyes as he runs towards her and sweeps her into a hug. Ghost Girl stands beside them at a gentle distance but Blue Angel notices the way the woman’s shoulders slump and the girl offers up a reassuring smile in return. Ghost Girl nods in reciprocation, a hand patting Blue Angel’s shoulder as she strides past.

Akira parts from his sister, his gaze and holding hers. “What happened? One moment you were behind us and then in the next…”

Her gaze falls to the floor. “I don’t know what happened myself. One moment I remember you guys were walking ahead of me and…and then…”

Ghost Girl peers over her. “And then what?”

“I…can’t remember.”

“You,” Akira’s eyebrows furrow into a reflection of her confusion, “can’t remember? Nothing at all?”

“I was standing in the alleyway. You two were going ahead of me and then I stopped for…for something and that’s all I can remember aside from feeling like I’ve been here for awhile.”

“You’ve been gone for at least thirty minutes,” the blue-haired man says. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere. We even had to ask Playmaker and Go to stop in their investigation to help look for you.”

 _Investigation._ The word rings in her head. Something about it calls to her attention and she can’t help but notice it because there’s something about that word that tugs at her mind but she really can’t-

“ _Serenity,_ ” Blue Angel breathes, eyes fluttering with surprise. “Brother, I know where Serenity is!”

Ghost Girl raises a delicate and slightly disbelieving eyebrow. “How do you know where she is? I mean, not to say I doubt you but…if you don’t remember...”

“I know, it’s unbelievable. But, before I forget, let me at least say it!” They nod and Blue Angel tells them of Serenity’s location, digging up memories in her mind that she hadn’t realized existed moments before.

“How interesting,” Ghost Girl says, “to think that  _that w_ oman would go to such extremes. Even I know better as to avoid  _that_ area so it’s no wonder why no one knows about her or her last known location. And, if you’re right, which I suspect you are, this may be our best chance at tracking her down.”

“Right.”

The woman opens up a message board. “I’ll contact Playmaker and Go. We can meet-up somewhere safe and exchange information then. We’ll formulate a plan from there.”

Akira nods. “That sounds like a good idea. We should go ahead then.”

“Alright, you first.” Ghost Girl gives the man a gentle nudge forward, the touch seemingly teasing. “I want to talk over some things with Blue Angel in the meantime.”

The man’s sharp gaze swipes over the silver-haired woman. “About what?”

“Anything that can help to jog her memory. But, Serenity is still our most important objective and we need someone to relay info to the boys before it’s too late. Go on, hurry.”

He hesitates, his eyes flicking between the both of them before he reluctantly nods and rushes off. When he disappears from sight, Ghost Girl yanks up Blue Angel’s left hand and looks over it with narrowed eyes.

“ _Spectre_ ,” she says, gaze shifting from left to right as her fingers press over Aoi’s palm. “Who is that?”

There’s a brief memory of a man with silver hair appearing on a television, his words a threat to those who enter into Link VRAINS. Blue Angel blinks, retracting her hand from Ghost Girl’s grip and reads over the characters scrambled onto her palm in smeared ink. Indeed, it read as “Spectre”, written in letters that looped with the unease of someone who had rushed to write them.

“I didn’t write this.”

“Oh?” Ghost Girl frowns, sharp eyes sweeping over the word. “But it’s in your handwriting?”

She looks over the letters. “I don’t remember writing this. At all.”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t there before.” The woman shakes her head and sighs. “Honestly, it’s concerning to me that you suddenly can’t recall anything. You were gone for thirty minutes and yet you can’t remember anything? Are you sure about that?”

Blue Angel shakes her head. “I’m sure.”

“ _Aoi_ ,” Ghost Girl’s voice drops to a cautious whisper. “You can trust me, you know. I know I’m not your brother but I can still help. Are you  _sure_  there’s nothing wrong?”

Her heart flutters at such words, gratitude nestling into the crevices of the girl’s heart. She hadn’t known the woman for too long, maybe two months at best, but there was something about the way Ghost Girl treated her that kept Aoi happy for her presence. Still, without much more to go on (and regret for not having the answers Ghost Girl seeks), she says: “I can’t remember anything aside from what I told you about Serenity. I swear I can’t.”

Silver eyes observe her and, hesitant, Ghost Girl offers a nod, returning her attention to the name written on the girl’s palm. “I believe you, Aoi.” The woman closes her eyes, sighs, and then opens them. “Well then, I guess we should be concerned about what this means. Spectre, was it? I think I’ve at least heard of that name before.”

“He was on the news. I think he…I think he was a member of Hanoi? He threatened anyone who came to Link VRAINS with death. But,” Blue Angel looks at the word on her hand and then at Ghost Girl, “that doesn’t make much sense. I doubt this has anything to do with him. But, honestly, the alternative isn’t much better either.”

“The alternative?”

She gives a shrug. “I’m somehow warning myself about a malevolent ghost.”

“Ah. The literal definition then.”

Blue Angel nods. “It’s the only idea I have. Not very logical, but it’s the only thing I can think of.”

“Perhaps.” Ghost Girl’s gaze slips past her. “I almost feel as if I can’t let this go. I’ll do some investigation into this ‘Spectre’. Perhaps I’ll find something in my research.”

An eyebrow raises.

“You’re not going to ask for payment?”

“Hush you. I’m interested in this man, nothing else.” Ghost Girl tilts her head up and looks away with a haughty huff. “This case has merely caught my eye, I’m not at all concerned for you.”

Blue Angel giggles at such insincerity. “Thank you anyways, Ghost Girl.”

The woman looks at her, eyes softening. “Come on,” she says, gesturing the girl ahead. “Let’s go see if your brother caught up with the boys. We can worry over this little issue later. I’ll keep in contact if I find anything. That alright for now?”

She nods. “That’s fine. There’s not much I can do either except try to remember.”

“Right.”

They move through the streets, feet touching down upon cobbled stone. All the while, Blue Angel feels the threat of eyes digging into her, the sensation of the walls watching her every movement as they stride ahead. Ghost Girl, as if reacting to her sudden anxiety, hums a soft song to ease away the girl’s worries, a hidden message of " _I’ll protect you_ ” nestled in its notes. Trusting in the woman before her and concerned with the hole that is eating its way into her brain, she sidles closer, trying not to let the phantom she feels haunt her waking mind.

“ _Blue Angel._ ”

The girl pauses, eyes widening as a voice smooth as honey pins her to the ground. However, her name disappears on invisible lips, the lingering presence of something malevolent fading as she continues on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goddammit AO3 stop putting extra spaces around all my italicized words D:< and doing your weird one-shot notes carry on into second chapters thing D:<
> 
> I am so tired rn but thankfully I've had this chapter prewritten for me. I don't remember if I have much to say on this other than that this chapter assumes that the Tower of Hanoi arc has finished, offscreen stuff has happened, and Aoi grows close with pretty much Yusaku, Go, and Ema irl and in the VRAINS, if that wasn't already obvious ;; I tried to make the relationships mesh together but suffice to say most of the bonding Aoi has with other background characters will appear off-screen. There are exceptions, of course, but most of the focus if, of course, on the relationship between Aoi and Spectre :P
> 
> Next time: Aoi learns more about "Spectre".


	3. Tear Down Thy Sanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A contract needs fulfillment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively: I finally get to start talking more on Ema and Aoi's relationship~

It is three weeks later that Aoi Zaizen learns any more about the man whose name matched the word written on her hands.

She’s in school, same old, same old, when she’s called out of class because her “guardian” has come to “pick her up”. However, as she arrives at the office, she is not met by her legal guardian (her _brother_ ) but, instead, by a guardian who has no doubt hacked her way into the system.

“Ema,” the girl greets with mild concern, watching as the aforementioned woman bounds up to her. “Why are you here?”

“To take you away,” the woman beckons to the door. “Come on, I want to talk about something.”

She scavenges for a reason why Ema would appear before her and comes to the worst conclusion possible: “Is it about my brother? Is he hurt?”

The woman gives her a scowl. “I probably wouldn’t be so calm right now if anything happened to your brother,” Ema presses against the handle of the door and leads the girl outside. “No, it’s about Spectre.”

“Spectre?” Simultaneously, relief and confusion floods through Aoi. “Did you find anything?”

“Not much,” the treasure hunter admits with a shrug of her shoulders. “I had hoped for more, honestly, but what little I can find of him is elusive at best and damn near non-existent at worse.”

“That…doesn’t sound good.”

“Tell me about it.” Ema waves a hand with an exasperated sigh. “I’ve been looking all week but, aside from the tower incident with Link VRAINS, there’s been no sightings of him. Whoever this guy is, he knows how to cover his tracks well.”

Aoi watches as the woman climbs atop her motorcycle and follows suit, already used to the routine of hopping onto the backseat of the vehicle. She wraps her arms around Ema’s waist. The woman wastes no time in kicking her motorcycle to life and speeding through the streets.

Wind in her hair, Aoi watches as the world blurs before her. Colors of the rainbow spread before her eyes, blending into one giant painting before the vision of the world dulls before her, its brilliance dimming as she bites at her lip and feels the pounding of her heart over the vibrations of Ema’s motorcycle.

 _Just a little longer,_ she promises herself. _Just a little longer and then I won’t have to feel like I’m losing myself anymore._

~~~

They arrive in an abandoned warehouse located in the warehouse district of Den City. It’s chilly and Ema, without a word, manifests a jacket from her motorcycle to place upon Aoi’s shoulders. The girl nods her thanks, tugging the item around her as they progress. Ema leads her to a silver fence, ignoring the white sign with the words _KEEP OUT_ written in a menacing red. Aoi opens her mouth to protest but Ema merely chuckles at such a thing as she swings the door of the fence open.

“Trust me, no one really cares about that silly old sign,” the woman says. “At least, it never stopped me and Akira from sneaking past this fence in the past.”

She raises an eyebrow at such a statement. “Are you saying my brother is a law-breaker?”

“Yep! He’s so much of a goody two-shoes now you almost wouldn’t believe it.”

Reluctantly, Aoi steps past the fence boundary line and over a line of brushes, thorns poking at her skin. “I’m guessing this is your base of operations,” she says, shaking her foot free of a vine.

“And you’d be right.” Ema follows in her footsteps and then leads her close to the entrance. She does a fake bow and then sweeps her arm forward in a grand gesture of exaggeration. “Welcome to my lair, Aoi Zaizen.”

“A privilege, I’m sure.”

The woman laughs, her voice a soothing honey that chases away Aoi’s worries. “It’s not much, honestly, and maybe the place is slightly run down, but it’s like a second home to me.” Ema opens a door and beckons her inside. “After you.”

She nods, treading into the domain of a cyber treasure hunter with wary steps. Walls and pipes line the interior as well several walls punched full of crumbling holes and ceilings with cracks lining the surface. Aoi eyes such dilapidated conditions with discontent, wrinkling her nose as she steps past several loose tiles and tries not to jump away when she sees spiders scoot from dust-filled cobwebs.

“This place is just _slightly_ run down, huh?” Her amber eyes land on the woman before her with contemplation, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief as she sidesteps a hole in the floor.

“Okay, well, maybe it’s a liiiiitttle more run down than I’d like to admit,” Ema gives an apologetic smile.

“Can’t you afford to fix all of this?”

“I can, but I don’t. It’s a nice deterrence to outside criminals for one, and, for another, it does a good job of hiding the best spot here from prying eyes.”

Ema leads her to a hatch and gestures to the floor where a pit of darkness opens up before them.

Aoi raises an eyebrow. “Are we going into the sewers?” She inquires, peering into the emptiness with puzzlement.

“No, not quite. It’s actually the second floor and, trust me, it’s in a whole lot better shape than the first floor is. Be careful though. There’s a ladder leading down so I highly recommend you don’t jump it.”

“Noted.”

The woman bends to her knees and puts her legs down into the darkness, feet balancing on hidden rungs as she descends. Aoi follows after her after a few moments of hesitation, giving Ema time to move to the floor before following after. As she does so, the light of the above world diminishes, leaving her groping around into the darkness until, eventually, the bottoms of her feet meet against awkward concrete. She sways at the sudden impact but feels Ema’s hands press against her back and steady her forward.

“Easy there,” the woman whispers. “Here, let me get the lights for you.”

A switch is flipped and pale light flickers onto a chamber of green and beige. The two of them meander through the depths of the second floor, skipping past several sets of doors to arrive in a strangely-placed cubicle complete with a computer gig that is far less extraordinary than she would have suspected. A sleek silver monitor sits atop a polished golden desk, a black keyboard mat with keys outlined in pink light placed in front of it. A mug of abandoned coffee lies on top of that and is hastily taken away before Aoi can see much more of it.

“This…is kind of old and gross now,” the older woman says with a sheepish smile, depositing the cup away from Aoi’s gaze.

The girl nods, continuing her inspection with vague interest. A block of concrete supports a gray printer to the left desk while, beside that, a trash can filled to the brim with miscellaneous papers exists. Above their heads remains the only source of light after Ema turns the others off – a hanging ceiling light which reaches down into the top center of the room and illuminates the area around them. On the far side of the wall, to the right of the desk, lies a light switch and a green cabinet with glass windows that are far too reflecting of luminance to look into. Across from the desk and on the wall beside the cabinet, sticky notes and pieces of paper line the surface, various words and drawings present on a canvas of notes.

Ema takes a seat on a chair without wheels, pressing a button on her keyboard mat to jump her screen to life. Aoi stands beside her, hands pressed gingerly down onto the arms of the chair as she observes.

“So,” the girl begins, “what’s so important that you need to fake yourself as my legal guardian? Couldn’t you have just met me after my classes had ended?”

“It’s more fun this way,” the pink-haired woman shrugs.

“My brother’s going to be mad,” Aoi warns.

Another shrug. “Akira can think what he likes. Worst comes to worst he’ll just assume I’ve kidnapped you and come frothing at the mouth to my doorstep.”

The girl raises an eyebrow and puts a hand on her hip. “You sound like that’s nothing to worry about.”

“It’s not, truly.” The pink-haired woman chuckles. “Well, regardless, if it comes down to it, I can handle his tantrums with ease.”

She tilts her head at _that_. “Tantrums?”

“Your brother has an awful tendency of wanting things from me,” the woman responds lightly, her voice tiptoeing on air as if the issue is something more deeply-rooted. “When he doesn’t, he tends to get upset. I think all the favors I do for him tend to get to his head sometimes.”

“And why _do_ you do favors for my brother? I’ve never seen you be paid for them and I doubt you’d do something for him without wanting something in return.”

Ema cocks her head left and right like an owl trying to ponder a question. “That’s an interesting question I’ve _never_ thought of before. Why _do_ I help your brother? Because he is an idiot who can’t stay alive without my help? Because he has a little sister who would poke holes in me if I didn’t help him?”

“The sarcasm is really appreciated,” Aoi says dryly, “but you haven’t answered the question.”

Ema chuckles. “You have great powers of observation; I admire that. However, I’m afraid there’s not much for me to say. I help your Brother only because it benefits me to put him in my debt.”

“And how does he repay this debt of yours, then?”

“With information.”

“Is that all?”

A smile on lips that don’t quite stretch all the way up to the woman’s eyes. “Of course it is. What do you mistake me for - his friend?”

She muses over that. “To be honest, I’m not sure. You seem pretty close to Brother. If I had to define your relationship, I would’ve thought you two were…”

The girl comes to a pause and Ema looks at her with full attention, her curiosity unrestrained as pink eyes search over Aoi’s face. “Well? Don’t leave me hanging.”

“We’re here to talk about Spectre, not my brother. Come on, you said you had information on the man I should be concerned with?”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“Neither did you.”

“Mine first.”

“I asked mine before you did. I think I deserve an answer.”

“Then we’re at an impasse.”

Their gazes meet, conflict, and then they chuckle in exasperation. There’s something so comforting about the way they can butt heads and yet still remain without changed opinions on the other. Ema’s gaze is mirthful, almost amused, and she relents in the challenge Aoi gives her without losing an inch.

“Here,” the woman says, pulling up a document on her screen. “This is a picture of the man on the Link VRAINS network hours before the tower fell. It’s all I could retrieve of a certain duel that might pique your interest. Take a look.”

She peers at the image, squinting as she sees two figures present in its pixelated field of vision. On it, she sees a man in white with his arm in front of him, virtual cards hovering before him. Across from the man, standing in all her glory, is Aoi Zaizen’s own online persona – Blue Angel. The avatar is poised for battle, her expression not visible to the camera. A hand is raised declaring her determination as a finger points in her opponent’s direction.

“This…who is this?” Aoi peers closer, eyebrows furrowing. “I don’t remember this. I remember being in Link VRAINS on that day but why…why is Blue Angel battling this man? I don’t…that _must_ be an imposter.”

“According to the testimony of the ones who took the footage, this was indeed you. This girl acted the same as the real Blue Angel, was able to use her deck quite well and even seemed to be recognized by her opponent – this _Spectre_ – as the real deal.”

The brown-haired girl suddenly feels as if her eyes are failing her, the screen blurring. “That…I can’t… _why_ …”

The world spins.

“Aoi?”

Stars are in her eyes but they are blinding her vision, blotting out pieces of the picture before her bit by bit.

“I…but that _doesn’t...!_ ”

Her legs shake.

“Aoi?”

There’s a sudden surge of panic throttling through her.

“I don’t remember this!” she shouts, screwing her eyes shut and putting shaking hands on the top of her head, scratching through her scalp. “I don’t…this _must_ be…something’s wrong, Ema. Something’s wrong, something’s wrong, something’s-”

Her body falls out of her control, swaying with an odd sense of fatigue that sends her crumbling to her knees.

“ _Aoi!_ ”

Ema bolts up from her chair to grab at her, hoisting her to a standing position that is then supported by the woman pushing her close to her chest. Aoi accepts the gesture without a word, relaxing into the woman’s touch as fingers run through her hair and a hand runs circles around her back.

“It’s alright, you’re alright,” the woman coos, “I’m here, you’re fine. You’re fine, you’re okay and it’s all alright.”

The warmth of Ema pressing against her is soothing and almost akin to the warmth her brother emanates. Such a feeling washes over Aoi, splashing against the fear that gnaws into her and sanding it all away as Ema continues her murmurings.

If she could allow herself to, she’d stay in Ema Bessho’s arms as long as she could. There was something so comforting about the woman, something so calming that it was almost as if the woman knew how to keep her from falling apart.   

“Aoi,” the woman whispers her name, prying the two of them apart as she looks over her. “Are you fine now?”

Ema’s words suddenly ground her to the floor of the warehouse. Reality floods back to her and, shaken, she takes a step back.

“Y-Yeah, thank you.”

The woman tucks a stray strand of brown behind Aoi’s ear, her gaze softening. “You can’t remember anything, can you?” A soft note of empathy pings in Ema’s voice.

“I feel like I’m out of control.”

“Don’t be,” Ema shakes her head. “You’re still you, Aoi. Even if the world feels like it’s going to fall, you have to believe it’s still there. Hold onto that for as long as you can.”

She steps back, meeting Ema’s soft and wistful gaze with some hesitance. “Is it possible you…?”

The woman sighs, her lips quirking up in the hint of surprise. “You’re too sharp for me.” She looks up at the ceiling. “But, yes,” magenta eyes meet amber, “I know well enough about the feeling that you’re feeling. The loss of control, the sudden urge to think that everything is beyond you…well, I’ve definitely been there too.”

“I’m sorry.”

Ema tilts her head, rose red lips parting. “For what?”

“For bringing up memories.”

“It’s fine.” A vibration noise sounds and Ema retrieves a phone from a satchel around her leg. She checks the screen and smiles. “Huh. Look at that. It seems our secret meeting isn’t so secret anymore.”

Aoi tries to peer at the screen but Ema swiftly tucks it out of sight. “My brother?”

Ema grins. “You bet.” She shuts down her computer and gestures down the hallway they had come from. “Come on, let’s go before he decides to fire me forever.”

She nods, following behind Ema as the woman leads her out of her warehouse. Step by step she moves forward, the world stable but with a tinge of surrealism attacking her peripheral. The world threatens to buckle, to sway, but Aoi holds her ground and focuses herself on the facts.

 _I have holes in my mind. Spectre is the key. I dueled him as Blue Angel, but I cannot remember the duel or him himself. He_ must _be the key._

~~~

The third time Aoi Zaizen meets _him_ she is on a raid in the middle of SOL Technologies Virtual Data Structure, Jin Kusanagi and Go Onizuka at her side. Their time is limited, the clock is ticking, pressure heaving upon their chests and yet somehow they still manage to keep calm.

“Faster, faster, faster,” Jin says, running down the length of a silver hallway.

“We need to move faster,” Go agrees, striding down the hallway with long steps.

“I know that,” Blue Angel snaps at the both of them, tired of such words, “but this entire place is a maze, the data facility could be _anywhere!_ ”

They can’t answer but of course they can’t. There is no viable answer to such a sentence. They’ve been running for minutes on end, their breathing run ragged as their tired muscles protest at every step. If they could take a break, they would, but the mission goal stamped upon their brains has prevented them from faltering even a single step. Silver hallways met every twist they saw, walls striped gray as the polished floor of an artificial and virtual honeycomb taunts their sanity. Occasionally, guards will block their paths, A.I.’s that scream for duels and which are easily kicked aside as they run past. There is not time for duels or card games and there is definitely little time for dealing with robots that act little more as stalling mechanisms.

“How do you think Playmaker is doing?” Go asks.

“He has Daddy Long Legs, Brave Max and Ghost Girl on his side, I think he’ll be fine,” Blue Angel responds, making another turn in an endless cycle of turns.

“I’m worried about them,” Jin says and it takes Blue Angel to remember that his brother is among their second raid party.

“I’m worried about Revolver’s group too,” Go adds. “We had to leave them behind.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” she says to the both of them. “Remember, all of us are used to this kind of thing. Everyone will be fine.”

“I certainly hope so,” Jin nods with a distant voice. “I can’t help but think of all the terrible things that might happen to them. Electrocution, strangulation, stabbing, torturing, getting cut open, getting their eyes stabbed out, drowning, suffocating, who knows maybe SOL will just slit their throats and….”

Blue Angel notices Go’s queasy face and she cuts the younger boy off before Go can look any paler. “Jin, as much as I love your pessimistic imagination, please be considerate of Go and the fact that he’s probably going to puke right now.”

The boy ventures a glance at his ally. “Oh, okay. Noted. I won’t talk about gutting people anymore.”

Go makes a sound that sounds vaguely like retching and Blue Angel has to pinch the bridge of her nose in near-exasperation. _I swear..._

She continues her pace, a thin layer of sweat building upon her skin as her legs protest at every stride she makes. Her chest is squeezing, her heart is racing, but she knows that the longer she endures the pain the less she’ll have to worry about the end results of their mission.

However, such hopes die as quickly as they are maintained. They have been running for minutes upon minutes, alarms blaring as the virtual world swoops and swirls, and it is only when they are completely out of breath that a man in white appears before them. Hastily, Go and Jin jump back, their duel disks out to defend themselves while Blue Angel stands in front of them with narrowed eyes.

“What do you want from us?” she declares, an arm out to protect the boys behind her.

“I am not here to harm you,” he says, voice oozing like oil. His blue gaze, while intrigued by her presence, snaps to the two boys beside her with irritation. “Be gone!” He barks, his fingers flicking against one another.

The light in both boy’s eyes fades and they collapse to the floor. Blue Angel watches them fall, the horror of her situation becoming clear as the man before her bows in a way that is mockingly respectful.

“ _What did you do to them?_ ” She snarls, her duel disk in front of her and flaring to life.

“Nothing much.”

She takes his words with the barest pinch of salt. “Who are you? Why did SOL send you?”

The man tilts his head, inquiring, and then nods to himself. “Ah, yes. I forgot. Here, a present for you,” he raises and hand and snaps his fingers.

At first, Blue Angel expects herself to crumble to the floor much like her companions had. But, instead, a sharp knife digs into her mind and she has to wince, stumbling, as memories come back to her.

_A tree. Trickstars. An alleyway. A contract. A face on a computer screen._

His name comes on repulsed lips:

“ _Spectre_.”

He bows again. “A pleasure, Blue Angel. Do you know why I’m here?”

“You want your duel,” she estimates. “But _now_ of all times? Did it really have to be _now_?”

“I only want to keep you from your doom, my idol.” He gazes behind him. “Believe me, continuing on this route will only do you harm if you continue so foolishly into death.”

“So you’re stalling me then.”

“Perhaps. But I really _do_ want to duel you again.”

Blue Angel looks at her fallen companions, shaking her head as she steps back. “Can’t we do this some other time?”

He manifests a familiar looking scroll before him. “You signed the contract, my dear. If you break it, you will be obliged by your own honor to duel at my beck and call. If right now is inconvenient for you, just imagine what it’ll be like when I do this over and over again.”

The girl curls her lips. “You know exactly how push my buttons, don’t you?”

“I make it my job to help Blue Angel realize who she is,” he responds, a smirk on pale lips. “Now, if I may, shall we start the duel?”

Purple eyes dart to the space behind him. As if sensing her intentions, he takes a step to the left, blocking her field of vision.

“Now, now, no distractions. Ready, and…”

She spits at the ground.

Their voices intertwine.

“Duel!”

~~~

Once again, a giant tree looms over Aoi Zaizen, the face of a phantom haunting her graces. Spectre and his deck have evolved, yet again pinning her into a corner that she has to outwit. Her Trickstars, her partners in crime, chitter with determination at such a challenge, the weight of the task before them far outweighing the nervousness they portray at repeating yet another duel.

Blue Angel fights with tooth and nail, biting and clawing at Spectre’s lifepoints bit by bit. Her opponent takes it all in style, his calm and relentless posture a mockery to her savage and firm desperation for their duel to come to an end.

“Oh my, oh my,” the man says, giggling at her burning spirit. “This is _exactly_ what I hoped for. Thank you for entertaining me, Blue Angel.”

She narrows her eyes, draws a card and slaps it on her duel disk to summon Trickstar Candina. “Why do you wish to duel me so much?” She asks the man. “Why does it bring you _pleasure_ to interfere in my life?”

“I do this because I want to,” the man shrugs. “I do this because I want you to know what I know, to understand me like the evil monster I am.”

“Do you speak in nothing but puzzles?” Blue Angel hisses, looking through the cards in her hand and then at the man before her. “Do you think it is _fun_ to mess with me every time we meet?”

“Not so,” he shakes his head. “Rather, I adore you. You are Blue Angel, the angel from the fairytale who sheds tears of blue. But, those tears of hers…you do not quite understand them, do you?”

The girl narrows her eyes. “What is your _point_ , Spectre?”

“My point is that you don’t quite understand the fairytale you claim to cherish, do you?”

She takes a step back at the accusation. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve asked you this before. Do you not know what your storybook means, what these evil monsters-” he gestures to himself “-mean to Blue Angel?”

The girl narrows her eyes, already coming to a conclusion. “They are her enemies,” she says, venturing a guess. “She destroys them because if she doesn’t she’ll be letting their evil corrupt her.”

There’s something almost ominous about the way disappointment shines in Spectre’s eyes. “If Blue Angel destroys the monsters because it is her duty, than why does she cry? If she so loathes them, why would she cry for their defeat and not revel in it?”

 _Again and again with the riddles._ Blue Angel puts both hands on her hips, contemplating his words with pursed lips. “She…” Blue Angel pauses, fishing for an answer.

Spectre eyes her with intrigue.

“I…I don’t know,” she admits after a moment of silence. “I don’t know why Blue Angel cries when she defeats the monsters.”

Her Trickstars stir again, wings beating out of tune. From the corner of her eyes, Blue Angel almost swears she see Candina shake her head in exasperation.

Spectre nods in approval. “As I thought. You are still too naïve to fulfill the role you claim.”

Fury shoots through her at the words, irritation flaring as the man before her gives another mocking bow. “What do _you_ know about Blue Angel?” she asks, snarling at his arrogance. “ _How_ can you dare say you _understand_ her when you _burn_ _her storybook whole_?”

A smile on pale lips. “We’re two sides of the same coin, Blue Angel,” the man refutes. “Please try to understand me more.”

The tree that stands before him whispers its agreement, leaves rustling. His plant-like monsters giggle, their curious gazes watching as Blue Angel bares her teeth in aggravation.

“I place one card down and end my turn,” she hisses.

“Delightful,” Spectre responds.

The battle continues.

~~~

Again, Aoi Zaizen wins, but the conclusion is just as unsatisfactory. Spectre has filled her head with riddles, goading her on about the meaning of her storybook idol and her idol’s tears. His insistence on her discovery of what “Blue Angel” means and what the “evil monsters” mean has her puzzled and upset, skin crawling with the man’s accusations.

Spectre does not throw the match but instead takes his loss with a smile, eager to take another bow.

“Thank you for the honor of this duel,” he says, voice pointedly polite. “However, the door to my heart still has yet to be opened.”

She laughs at such a notion. “ _Door?_ What does a _door_ have anything to do with this?” A hand covers one half of her face as she stares at him in wide-eyed anger. “Why am _I_ your _victim,_ your _play-thing?_ What makes you so _obsessed_ with _me_ that you do everything in your power to tear away my _memories_ and _dreams_ and _sanity_ all for the sake of a storybook and a _door?_ ”

He takes in her anguish without blinking an eye, his smile firm on his face. “Well, that is something you’ll have to answer yourself, isn’t-” the man pauses, frowning as he cranes his head to the left. “We have visitors.”

Blue Angel stares at him, narrowing his eyes and tensing with the expectation that he is pulling a trick on her. However, much to her astonishment, from behind Spectre emerges Ghost Girl. The woman manifests from the shadows of a hallway corner, quiet fury in every step she makes.

“Move away from her, _Spectre_ ,” she says, her voice light and calm. It as if she is exchanging a pleasant chat with someone she has not met with ages, her expression stoic. However, Aoi knows better. The way that Ghost Girl tilts up her head and offers Spectre a glare of blazing silver keeps Blue Angel from any doubts that the woman is looking for blood. “Move _away_ from Blue Angel.”

The man sighs. “Oh my, oh my, you sneaky girl,” his gaze flashes to the blue-haired duelist, something akin to anger in his eyes. “I thought my existence was supposed to be our little secret. I’m going to have to punish you now.”

Ghost Girl strides forward, protective anger alight in her eyes but Spectre merely dips his head in greeting, unaffected by the wraith who towers over him. “I’m truly sorry for this,” he says, holding up a hand as the woman steps closer and closer. “But I need you both to go to sleep now.”

Blue Angel watches as Spectre snaps his fingers and she _screams_ , hands reaching for his throat _._

“ _You bast-!_ ”

A singular sound reaches her ears and, without understanding why, Blue Angel falls to the floor.

~~~

Aoi Zaizen wakes up to a hallway littered with the sleeping bodies of her companions. Groggy and uncertain as to why she had found herself in such a position (or why/ _when_ Ghost Girl has joined her party), she makes a move to wake them all up, a sense of urgency flooding her mind.

“Come on, come on,” she says to Jin and Go and Ghost Girl as their eyes flutter awake. “We need to get moving.”

Despite the confusion clear in their eyes and the questions on their lips, they nod, getting to their feet. There’s a need for explanations that hangs in the air, a list of questions that sit inside their mouths, but their focus must lie elsewhere. Until their mission is complete, there is little else they can do. Raiding SOL takes priority, they all know that but…

In the back of her mind, Blue Angel feels the sensation of something wrong crawl across her skin. Without knowing why, she has the feeling of being watched, the hallways of SOL mocking her every movement as she presses on.

(“… _punish_ …”)

A phantom of a voice touches her ears.

Pressing her arms against herself, Blue Angel shudders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love my random interpretation of Jin, honestly. I did not plan for him to appear this way but oh boi do I love his weirdly optimistic yet somehow obliviously threatening character
> 
> If there's one thing I have to say about this fic as a whole...it's that the theory that lingers behind it is hella complicated to intertwine in without giving away blatant answers or repeating myself. I have to keep looking at my google doc for reference to make sure i'm on track with the theory of Blue Angel's storybook bc if I don't it's literally a whole world of hurt later on lol


End file.
